


brevity, instead

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, poetic references to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: there's a certain kind of something he leaves behind him, but he's no time to figure that. too much else left in his hands to consider aught else but them.
Relationships: Orphaner Dualscar/The Psiioniic | The Helmsman, Orphaner Dualscar/The Psiioniic | The Helmsman/The Signless | The Sufferer, Orphaner Dualscar/The Signless | The Sufferer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Polyswap Presents 2020





	brevity, instead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auxanges](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxanges/gifts).



> "i. love. cranky old men. bonding together despite their differences. to fight a war. that they all thought they might win. despite being on different sides. and touching a lot. fondly. they are repressed victorians with laser eyes and alien parts, the quantity of which get touched is up to you.  
> play with the signless rebellion as much as you want im just a kid and life is a nightmare (for them anyway)"
> 
> I think I read "victorian" then just tipped headfirst into poetry-ish

you write him poetry that gets buried between breaths, between the dip of his thighs, the way his body arches in your mind when you touch him with hands that have so far only known how to break. it is easier to picture yourself breaking him than it is to imagine yourself loving him, and you find the distinction hard to embrace, impossible to forgive. he is not yours, he never will be, and you wish you could hate him for that.

instead, you love, and your heart bleeds sick with it.

Your title is ORPHANER DUALSCAR and you have never been more lost under your own stars.

two warm bodies blur into one in your ever-changing mind and you nearly blurt out confessions on the nightly, feeling the slow slip of your sanity as your grip on it seemed to wane. you know they are not one troll and the same but it would be impossible for you to tell the difference on the worst of your days, and you want to allow it, to let yourself believe them so insignificant that you could easily lose their names, but you've always known a lie when you told one. now is no different, now, when you cut your hands rearranging shattered pieces of truth.

instead, you fall for it, and fall for them as you do.

Your name is LOST and you have never wondered what else there was for you until then.

your dreams are painted in unholy things made sacred; profanities fall from your lips like a thousand blessings and you rejoice, delighting in the changing brightness of their souls. do you have a soul? such questions are not meant for you, are not made for a violet lad to ask. you are not a lad. you are no longer truly a violet. you're unsure that you could yet be any of the things that make up a seaborn, losing yourself as you have to them.

instead, you breathe, and hold out against the days that you can't.

This is the first time you gave in to WONDER and you are starting to think you can never go back. 


End file.
